


Skin As White As Snow

by CrocodilePatronus (crocodileinterior)



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fairy Tale Elements, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:46:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocodileinterior/pseuds/CrocodilePatronus
Summary: Jimmy reads a well known fairytale and is reminded of a similarly beautiful under butler.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent
Kudos: 17





	Skin As White As Snow

When he went to bed at night and when he woke up in the morning, the book felt like a heavy prescence in his room lying unassuming on the top of his wardrobe. As if it were the center of gravity of his bedroom. His eyes flicked to it briefly as he undressed and again when he moved closer to it, standing in front of his mirrors. All four of them. The same face looked back.

Jimmy leaned forward, examining his reflection carefully as he did many nights- though he didn’t think he’d be quick to admit that to anyone. For better or for worse he’d always been beautiful. That held both positive and negative connotations for Jimmy. It made him an object affection for most women and alienated him from most men. It was uneasy and in some ways it was actually **_lonely_**. But Jimmy was a firm believer that anything could be turned around to his advantage and so instead of trying to overcompensate by dressing poorly or getting a bad haircut to make the ‘pretty boy’ jokes he’d been subject to by his peers since he was an adolescent stop, he _embraced_ the fact that he was naturally good looking.

Now he nearly considered his good looks to be a part of his _personality_ and the maintenance of his appearance was a large part of his day.

Jimmy turned his head to the side slightly, brushing his knuckles along his jawline and feeling no stubble. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes and tucking one of the longer pieces behind his ear.

_Who’s the fairest of them all….?_

His eyes flickered once more to the book. Collected Tales of the Brothers Grimm. He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to buy it from the dusty old bookstore in Ripon. Curiosity or whim or fate perhaps. Jimmy knew he was far too old for fairy tales though re-reading through the book again he realized that his own mother had heavily abridged the original Grimm stories for the benefit of his innocence. He didn’t recall the bedtime stories of his childhood being quite so gruesome as the ones found in the book even if the names and characters were the same.

Perhaps he’d bought it because the book itself had been pretty- red leather bound with golden letters in the title. It seemed an old book- practically antique- and the binding was starting to weaken. But the pages weren’t delicate or stained- it was printed on thick paper that felt strangely comforting when he flicked his thumb over the edges of each page.

Jimmy wasn’t exactly tight fisted with his money and often things like this took his fancy and he’d feel compelled to buy them. He had an abundance of ties that were pretty but that he’d never wear and too many decks of cards that were too lovely looking to use. All of them bought on a spur of the moment decision and none of the purchases were regretted even if it made his room thicker with superfluous trinkents and made his wallet lighter. They were all special to him- tokens of his love for himself.

But the Grimm fairytales hadn’t been going unused. In fact Jimmy felt nearly as if he’d been put under a spell by one story in particular.

Snow White. It hadn’t exactly been a staple of his childhood- it was about princesses and he’d always cared more for dragons and knights. Though obviously he knew the story. He’d read it now because it was there- pure and simple. The same way he’d read all of the other chapters of the collection. However, Snow White was the only one that he re-read and then read again and again and it was the only one that stirred such a profound… ** _reaction_** from him.

He shook his head slightly and lowered his gaze, averting his eyes from looking at his own face and seeing the tell-tale blush he could feel creeping into his cheeks. 

The problem wasn’t in the reading but in the way the words of the book had printed themselves in his thoughts and came out spontaneously and unbidden during the day when he was trying to go about his work.

Particularly around the under butler.

He’d been playing cards with Thomas a week ago- just the two of them. For Alfred would stupidly agree to any game then quickly become bored when he realized he could never win when he was in competition with Thomas or Jimmy and soon leave the two of them alone.

There was the scent of smoke and a wealth of unsaid words between their bodies that night and as Jimmy looked at Thomas the words had come into his head- more like a whisper in his ear from some invisible spirit than a conscious thought.

… _grew higher and higher in her heart like a weed so that she had no peace night or day_ ….

And his breath had caught in his throat. He’d spent hours pondering why he’d thought such a thing. After all, the quote was about the evil queen’s hatred for Snow White. _Though hate and love- in some ways are not all that different in their passions_ , said the same voice in his head that whispered fairytales in his ear.

And whether it was hate or love, Jimmy **_did_** have little peace night or day from thoughts of Thomas Barrow and like a weed he couldn’t pull free, these thoughts had indeed lodged themselves like a living thing in his chest. A parasite he couldn’t rid himself of.

Jimmy took a deep breath, seeing the distress in his own four reflections staring back at him and feeling it in the tightness of his pajama pants.

He paced the room, chewing on his thumbnail, before picking up his chair and putting it under the handle of his door at an angle to keep anyone (Alfred) from walking in, grabbed the book and leapt into bed.

Once the covers were pulled up to his chest he opened the book and it fell easily to the story he read most often- the binding yielding to the familiarity of Jimmy’s hand.

And with his other hand he slowly stroked his growing erection through the fabric of his pajamas.

He had the grace to blush at least. Even in complete privacy- he knew he was ridiculous. A grown man wanking off to a children’s story. But he knew it wasn’t really the story that was stirring him and making that familiar lust curl in the pit of his stomach.

 _Skin as white as snow_ ….

He closed his eyes, swallowing as the image behind them immediately became Thomas- pale as a vampire and twice as bloodthirsty when someone dared cross him. Jimmy imagined seeing Thomas completely naked in front of him and the thought simultaneously made him feel guilty and nearly frightened at the implications of touching himself to the thought of a naked man but at the same time all feelings of self doubt were put aside as the heat in his twitching cock became priority and he didn’t attempt to supress the harsh moan that escaped his lips.

Thomas’s milky white thighs, shoulders, chest, stomach…. in these moments when Jimmy’s reason was heeled at the feet of his desire, he wanted nothing more than to explore all of Thomas’s snow white body- preferrably with his mouth. Wanted to make the other man throw his head back in pleasure, offering up his pale neck to him to suck on and kiss and bite until it was blooming with fresh color.

 _Lips as red as blood_ ….

Countless times Jimmy had found himself staring fixedly at the way Thomas smoked. The way his lips wrapped around the cigarette tightly as he inhaled and then pursed on the exhale like a kiss to the air.

To his horror and embarassment he’d been called on it several months back. Thomas had looked at him, perplexed and said “Is there something on my face?” with a nervous laugh. And Jimmy had sputtered out quickly that he was just dying for a smoke and that was all.

Thomas had taken another drag, studying him and said, “Didn’t know you smoked….” with a shrug.

And then Jimmy had had to start smoking.

But he found himself distracted by Thomas’s lips even when there wasn’t a cigarette between them. Thomas had a wide, red, and acquiescent mouth- it curled up in a perfect sneer when he was showing contempt to someone he deemed below him or pursed into an attractive pout when he was trying not to say out loud what he thought of the stupid orders he was receiving from Carson or one of the family. And sometimes though more rarely it twisted into a perfect and sincere smile that made Jimmy’s knees go comically weak.

Jimmy thrust his hand down into his pants and began to run his palm with more urgency up and down his now fully hard shaft. He bit down on the inside of his cheek hard as his breath became reduced to ragged panting.

 _Hair as black as ebony_ …

God, he wanted to run his fingers through Thomas’s hair. Wanted to curl his hands into fists through it even if it meant them getting sticky with pomade. When he saw Thomas so neat and prim in his uniform everyday Jimmy regularly felt strong urges to shove him against the wall and kiss him until all his tidiness was gone. Until his black hair was falling in his eyes and framing his face, brushing just above his light colored eyes.

He wondered how Thomas’s hair would look when it wasn’t all combed back and styled. If it would be floppy and soft. How it would feel to brush his cheek against. How it would feel to grip Thomas’s hair as his head was between Jimmy’s thighs and his supple, red, mouth was wrapped around his cock…

Jimmy jerked his hips up off the bed, his back arching and his fist tightening as he moved it up and down his length.

He took his other hand away from the book and used it to squeeze his own bollocks, drawing out a choked gasp from his throat.

 _Thomas… beautiful Thomas… beautiful **and** handsome. The princess, the knight, the huntsman, the dragon, all at once_…

“Mnngh…” he made a strangled noise as he came, spilling over his fingers and onto the bedsheets.

For several moments he lay spent on his cot, his chest rising and falling with every wheeze of breath. Finally he stood up and frowning, gingerly picked up the book and put it back on his wardrobe top. Until he would need it again the next night.


End file.
